


Neck

by alltoseek



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, Necks, Poetry, neck porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 18:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltoseek/pseuds/alltoseek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sestina in homage to that thing of beauty, Benedict Cumberbatch's Sherlock's neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JessamyGriffith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessamyGriffith/gifts).



> Beta'd by the always lovely irisbleufic. All mistakes and errors in judgement remain my own.

Emerging from the collar, like the nacreous  
prize encircled by the oyster's shell, long  
in creation ( _lambent surface inviting touch_ ).  
Column of rising flesh begging for the press,  
the stroke and caress, even the bruise, of fingertip;  
vulnerable, disguised in strength, yearning to yield.

Soft dusk falls as days yield  
to night, dimming light glowing nacreous.  
Tracing the length, finding way by fingertip,  
pale neck gleaming, not an inch too long:  
scallop dips in the pillow under the press  
of head's weight, curls disarray to the touch.

The collar's silken edge and whispering touch:  
dark tangle of tussled curls yield  
to light skin exposed, open to any press.  
Arching drags a susurrus of sound nacreous,  
promising textures rough and smooth. Hands long  
for immersion, exploring fingertip by fingertip

Taut skin quivers under searching fingertip,  
in turn retreating and advancing from touch.  
Smooth skin marked by a single mole long  
Separate from its fellows; if to impulse yield  
still could not span the width of flesh nacreous  
without a push too deep, a bruising press.

Hand hovering, passion without press,  
a swallow: flesh rises to kiss a fingertip.  
Swell of skin curves along, a nacreous  
wave, swirling motion inviting touch.  
The passage of life's breath will not yield,  
for sustenance length is never too long.

Blood circling through ivory flesh so long,  
a point pulsing against the heated tongue's press.  
Mouth poised, breathes – to pursue or to yield?  
Tracing beaded droplets with the dry fingertip:  
air and heat, chill made sultry. One final touch –  
tongue laving curls of moisture left nacreous.

From chest to chin long from dark glows nacreous:  
no pressure, no deep press, just love's slight touch  
at last will yield to the kiss of fingertip.


End file.
